


kairos

by madoqa



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-06-10 10:08:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6952294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madoqa/pseuds/madoqa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Between the city's sharp corners and gleaming lights dwell restless spirits and cold shadows. Takumi walks the darkest alleys with a seer's confidence until he comes face to face with a new enemy. From this point onward, anything goes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. intrusion

The crease in Ryouma’s brow deepens as he concentrates, sitting at the edge of his chair, palms flat and facing the ceiling. Still and silent, he waits, not so much as sparing a breath. His eyes shut tight, the slightest hint of sweat beading at his temple, he listens with an almost aggressive focus.

 

The night is humid. Hoards of people shuffle up and down the streets below, wrapped in dull shades of gray, blending with the gleaming concrete beneath their feet like the gentlest dips of the ocean. The lights in the streets fill the gaps in the crowds and the oscillating shadows of their gaits, burning like toxin on the deep monochrome surface, the city’s plastic wrapping. When a car honks two others respond, and in the discord there is a tiny ripple, a soft nudge rather than a flash of light…

 

Ryouma relaxes and his fingers recoil, settling into loose curves, bringing life, dimension, and a sharp shudder to his heavy breath. When he smiles he lets his eyes betray him, glinting something colder than the rain droplets streaking the glass walls behind him.

 

He’d said it was not possible, but that was almost four years ago. He’s armed now, with experience and honed strength. He feels the last of the almost shocking heat trickle from his fingertips out in the air, fizzling out in the bitter chill, and he listens, this time to the noisy streets of the city. Closing his eyes once more, Ryouma slowly raises his right arm from the table, reaching out to meet the potent air before him, fingers curved in a muted beckon.

 

_ Come. _

 

A gust of wind, no stronger than an idle breeze, caresses the hollows in his cheeks--abating, but inquisitive. Ryouma shifts in his seat.

 

_ It’s here. _

 

..

 

Takumi is on scouting duty tonight.

 

Trudging down the alleyway, he watches his shadow grow dim, disappearing altogether in the crisp autumn air. He might as well be walking on water--his footsteps melt into the pavement, and when you cannot see your own hand inches in front of your face, the soft sound of rubber soles meeting concrete feels like your only grasp, albeit a blind one, on the present.

 

Slowing his pace, Takumi settles into a vague saunter and exhales. He’s always held his breath when he starts his rounds, a habit from his first night on duty, years ago. If it were day, he would have watched boredly as the mist rose from between his lips, dissipating into the antiseptic atmosphere they called air. Sometimes he imagines that he breathes acid in the dark, and that he’s responsible for the exclusively nocturnal rampages they all had to take care of.

 

Eyes fixed on the flickering streetlamp at the far end of the alley, Takumi purses his lips and blows out a thin stream of air in a sort of muted whistle, jaw locked and head tilted slightly toward the pitch black sky.

 

_ Nothing unusual. Reporting again in ten. _

 

Ryouma deemed it necessary, but Takumi calls it trivial. He’s experienced enough now to see the difference between a dark street and a dark presence, and even if he were attacked, he would be far from helpless in the middle of the city. Yurei dwelling in more populated areas were almost never strong enough to pose a threat, even when the sky was overcast. Regular reports back to HQ were simply formalities at this point. Another bullet point on a newbie’s evaluation cheat sheet.

 

Takumi often finds himself drowning in boredom at the half hour mark, and this calm night is no different. Still gazing at the distant streetlamp and quickening his stride, he wants nothing more than to be able to see the ground beneath his feet again, but he knows better than to run. You never know when running in an active district will send you tumbling face-first into the ground, nose broken and face to face with an angered spirit. Yurei weren’t particularly sneaky, at least in the eyes of a seer, but scouts tended to get reckless on seemingly uneventful runs.

 

He can barely hear the traffic now. Mentally double-checking that this was truly the final stretch of his route for the night, Takumi relaxes a bit, breathing deeply to make up for the oxygen he lost before. For the umpteenth time, he wonders facetiously why the yurei always stuck to the darkness when it would be such an easier time for himself if they pounced in broad daylight, when suddenly he feels the ink in his left wrist ripple and he knows he isn’t alone anymore.

 

_ Perfect timing. Thanks a lot, prick. _

 

Takumi sighs, disappointed that he, unfortunately, would not be beating his long-time four-day encounter-free streak tonight. As he walks, he watches his precious streetlamp flicker for one, two, three, four full seconds. Then he feels the gust filter through his bangs, sending pleasant waves through his long hair, and not-so-pleasant shivers down his spine.

 

He stops and pulls his hands from his jacket pockets. Drawing in a deep breath, feeling the cold air bite his nostrils, Takumi crosses his right arm over his chest and reaches two left fingers out in front of him. The dragon scales on his wrist are prickling now. He stares with the intensity of a prowling tiger, but rather than seeing his prey, he can feel its otherworldly presence, intangible but heavy, dense, and seeping into the narrow confines of the alley like poison.

 

When he begins to chant, the low tones of kuji-in flowing freely from deep within his chest, Takumi watches, waiting for the first visible tell of the yurei’s approach, visible when disturbed even in pitch blackness. The hesitation in a yurei’s advancement was the optimal time to dispel them; their free-floating souls were exposed and vulnerable when first countered with the kuji-in.

 

Takumi barely has any time to repeat his chant when he sees it, a sort of wrinkle in thin air, like watching someone blow away smoke burning from incense. In a single fluid motion, he reels back then lunges forward, flicking his wrist with a flourish and thrusting his flat palm into the darkness in front of him as if he were stabbing it with his arm. He feels the impact like he’s slicing through water, his wrist burning now, and he waits for the familiar feeling of a collapsing yurei, crumpling to the ground in invisible folds before vanishing forever. Instead, he feels another chill, this time like a stream of ice-cold water is trickling down his back. Seconds pass, and the night remains still.

 

Then he hears it. Unidentifiable at first, but unmistakable when it passes, fluttering by Takumi’s earlobe before it disappears behind him.

 

A little girl’s voice, giggling.

 

Takumi whirls around, his pulse pounding in his ears, cold sweat spilling from the base of his neck. He looks for the yurei desperately, his eyes darting from one dark corner to the next, but to no avail. He can only hear the gentle  _ whoosh _ of the breeze tailing it. The pain in his wrist dulls down, and he knows it’s gone.

 

_ What the hell? _

 

Stunned, Takumi stands still for several minutes, blinking in perturbed confusion. Some yurei were strong enough to make sound, sometimes even speak, but never had Takumi encountered one that skirted around him, much less evaded his attacks. And this one did more--it  _ taunted _ him. Yurei almost always attacked blindly, animated by the desire to bring darkness, lunging at anyone who bore the seer’s wrist marks, threatened by the seer’s innate ability to permanently quash their discarnate rage. This one was definitely different, and different meant dangerous, perhaps even--

 

Suddenly, Takumi sees a flash of crimson, and he’s startled back to the present with a strong wave of energy, gently pushing him forward toward the side of the alley he came from.

  
Ryouma was summoning him. Takumi’s about to respond that he’s yet to finish his rounds for the night, when he shivers for the third time, words he didn’t think he would hear at least for decades to come drifting slowly into his mind.

 

_ It’s here. _

 

Making a beeline for the alley entrance, Takumi holds in his breath once more, head swimming, threatening to overflow with countless disconnected thoughts and theories. Ryouma must sense it, the presence of the yurei anomaly. The girlish giggle still echoes in the back of Takumi’s mind as he emerges into the busy street and slips into the stream of late-night stragglers, head lowered, hands balled into fists and stuffed back in his jean pockets.

 

The day has finally come, and Takumi is utterly unprepared.

 

..

 

“Come, Elise. It’s time for bed.”

 

The tiny doll of a girl groans, her shoulders slumping. When she turns, Leo gives her a stern look, gesturing toward the door at the back. The night wind sends her pigtails swaying slowly.

 

“Come,” he repeats, firmly this time, and Elise lets out a little sigh before she stands abruptly, unperturbed by the two hundred foot drop below her, and hops down from the ledge. She begrudgingly takes her brother’s hand as they head toward the door and descend the grimy, dimly lit stairs. Wrinkling her nose, Elise pouts momentarily before looking back up at the roof entrance with a longing look in her eyes.

 

“I wasn’t even done playing yet,” she grumbles under her breath. Leo ignores her until they’ve descended six landings. Pushing open the heavy door to their floor, he squints vaguely, flooded by the startling bright light of the hotel hallway. Leo’s about to speak when Elise runs off ahead of him, skipping down the polished marble floors, pigtails cheerfully swinging from side to side and betraying her outward anger with her stringent brother.

 

Stopping at the last door, Elise presses her palm to the metal handle, concentrating, then pushes it opens slowly upon hearing the faint  _ click _ of the lock. She pokes her head in first, looking around the room absentmindedly before bounding inside, ignoring Leo’s faint “sleep well” and letting the door gently click shut behind her.

 

“Psst, are you asleep yet Camilla?” Elise whispers, loudly, and makes her way to the bedroom, once again peeking around the corner first before entering.

 

Camilla is sitting up against one of the bed’s headboard, a book open in her lap. She smiles without looking up, underlining a particularly interesting sentence with her fingertip. Elise flops down on her own bed and turns to watch as deep tones of violet gently rise like smoke where Camilla touches the paper.

 

“I’m about to, dear,” Camilla replies, and she raises her other hand, cupping it gracefully around the purple mist before it vanishes, gently closing her fist around it. “What were you doing on your own this late at night?”

 

“I was on the roof, playing,” Elise huffs, turning away and pulling her knees to her chest. “Leo’s no fun… He made me come down in the middle of my favorite game.”

 

Camilla lets out a soft chuckle and closes her book. She stands and approaches Elise, smiling fondly at her back. She sits at the edge of the young girl’s bed and puts her hand on her blonde head. Camilla wishes again that her sister never change, and that her small frame and innocent demeanor will always remain safely by her side. Moonlight streams in through the gradually clearing sky, bending away from the girls’ beds toward the doorway, forming the beginnings of a shadow.

 

Camilla leans down, her long locks framing Elise’s face, and presses a kiss to her temple.

 

“You will have plenty of chances to play and explore soon. For now, sleep, little one.” Camilla presses her palm tenderly to the back of Elise’s head, and delicate ribbons of lavender leap from her fingers to dance around Elise’s bangs. Eyes already closed, Elise smiles vaguely as she falls into a mellow dream, softened by Camilla’s sweet touch.

  
She dreams of dancing in the city streets, landing pirouettes through the tranquil darkness, stealing innocent, shallow breaths from the silver-haired boy with the enchanted tattoo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the fates royals duke it out on a modern battlefield~ (leonkumi focused) 8)  
> i hope u will join me on this emotional rollercoaster, aka the magical world of au u_u


	2. cobalt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more exposition >_> sorry  
> such is the reality of au

The angular skyline cuts sharp edges into the drifting gray clouds, scattering what little light the sun shown through into geometric pebbles, spreading throughout the dull morning fog. Sakura sits on her rumpled up futon, legs crossed and hands flat beneath her, retaining as much warmth in her fingers as possible. The chilled outdoor air radiates from the closed window next to her table, and Sakura gazes out into the sky as she shivers slightly, her silk pajamas, tinged with rose petals as they may be, helping little to block the pervasive cold.

 

“Rin, pyou, tou…” Sakura airily whispers the syllables, lost in the calm of the dawn. “Sha, kai, jin, retsu…”

 

A bird must be singing, somewhere. Sakura rises delicately, sliding off her warm covers and stretching her arms high on her tiptoes, reaching toward the wooden boards above.

 

“Zoku… zen…”

 

She can hear footsteps approaching, perhaps four, five floors down, climbing the stairway with a commanding gait. Sakura cards through her closet and pulls out a deep scarlet robe. Three, two… Draping it over her shoulders and taking a deep breath, she heads for the door to her room. One… Zero…

 

Politely, she waits for the knock before pulling the door open a crack. Hinoka is standing on the other side, fully dressed. She must have come straight after finishing up her scouting shift. Takumi’s probably gone to bed by now.

 

“Already up, sleepyhead?” Hinoka pats the top of Sakura’s head, purposefully ruffling her hair into a tangled mess. Sakura sighs and lets her in, tugging at her locks, wondering when she would be allowed to spend her precious mornings in peace.

 

“How did it go last night?” The answer is always the same, but Sakura asks every time anyway. Hinoka hasn’t encountered anything out of the ordinary since she started training, years before Takumi. Hinoka crawled under Sakura’s comforter, snuggling into the still-warm futon as she watched Sakura idly comb her hair.

 

“As usual,” Hinoka replies on cue, subconsciously massaging her left wrist. Her dragon tattoo, longer, thinner, and curlier than Takumi’s, settles as if it were itself sighing into relaxation, curving once around the base of her wrist before stretching up her forearm in elegant waves. Just like Takumi’s, it’s tinged red, the subtle crimson barely visible in the shine of the scales, claws, and eyes, but somehow it glows stronger, as if to mirror the vivid shade of Hinoka’s flaming red hair.

 

When Hinoka began training, one of the youngest Division hopefuls at the age of thirteen, the demand for seers in the city of Kairos was much greater. Disembodied spirits terrorized the civilians nightly, sometimes even materializing in the daytime, although keeping to the shadows of closed off alleys and abandoned warehouses until discovered. The yurei sightings now were few and in between, not including the ones expelled on duty.

 

Invisible to an ordinary person, yurei are free spirits, and rarely latch onto or possess humans in order to carry out their acts of violence. The prolonged presence of yurei in places where humans dwell often leads to emotional and psychological instability in living things, which naturally breeds catastrophe. Many self-proclaimed “scholars” claim yurei are dead human spirits, unable to rest in peace and enter the afterlife, but the overall consensus among seers affirms the ambiguity of their nature. Only their origin--the spirit realm--was confirmed.

 

Some are born with the ability to sense and eliminate yurei. Called “seers,” such people cannot absolutely “see” yurei, but their innate skills heighten their other senses, and kindle the inklings of a sixth--the ability to “see” instances of the other world, and utilize its spiritual powers. This ability manifests in seers in various ways, and in Hinoka, lets her experience both realms at once, as if to leave her body in Kairos and bring her mind to a parallel plane, where gods and departed souls dwelled.

 

Hinoka grew up with more difficulty in mastering her skills than most of the others. Her unique ability often left a young Hinoka, sitting in class with her schoolmates one moment, suddenly confused and alone in the next, traversing unknown towns and cities in a foggy state, as if she were dreaming. Most seers, like Takumi, were able to see moments of weakness and vulnerability in yurei and sometimes visually observe their behavior in confrontation. Others could discern different types of yurei when in their presence, the closest thing coming to individual personalities, categorized by behavioral patterns. With very few people able to train her, Hinoka learned to use her ability on her own, training herself in mental strength, focusing most of her spells in mastering both her body and mind, until she was able be physically and mentally present in both worlds at once with ease.

 

The fruits of her labor proved more than worthwhile when Hinoka earned a spot at the head of the district 2 unit at the spry age of nineteen. Her unique skills gave her a considerable advantage when fighting yurei, and provided more understanding and basis for further research into the yurei and the other world. At twenty, she became her younger brother’s trainer, and watched in delight when his tattoo finally appeared after his first successful scouting mission, scarlet ringlets weaving around the dragon’s tail, tracing his veins then ending in a graceful coil.

 

Sightings in Kairos began to die down considerably when Takumi began his training with Hinoka. He’d looked forward to shadow scouting his sister for years, only to be disappointed by the long, uneventul hours of trudging through the city streets, wishing he were at home bundled up in bed rather than outside on winter nights. Hinoka remained ever vigilant however, no matter how boring the hunts became, and sat Takumi down one morning after a run with a glint in her eye.

 

“The fact that you have this proves that you are meant to protect this city,” she said sternly, pulling up Takumi’s sleeve and pointing at his mark. “You have a purpose, and you better not lose sight of it as long as it’s there.”

 

It was permanent, of course, but she made her point. Takumi went on to complete his duties with diligence rivaling that of his sister’s, and eventually joined her at the top of the ranks, much to Hinoka’s pride.

 

Years passed with no change in the number of yurei sightings. Scouting runs became the vast majority of the seers’ responsibilities, and even they seemed unnecessary at times. When Sakura came of age to begin training, it became apparent that she was gifted in her communications with the other world, like Hinoka, and she chose to focus on honing her abilities in clairvoyance and theoretical studies. Particularly interested in the ancient art of onmyodo, which laid the foundation for the existence of seers and their unique skills, Sakura spent most of her free time studying traditional rather than practical spiritualism.

 

Currently, she is especially intrigued by the origin of kuji-in, the ancient mantra used by seers when dispelling yurei. Sakura spends her late nights poring over piles of texts, reading about the gradual evolution of the chant as it circulated through the multi cultures of east asia, thousands of years ago. This habit affected her earlybird tendencies, and Sakura found herself growing more aggravated with Hinoka’s noisy morning visits with each passing day.

 

“This is the third time you’ve fallen asleep in my room,” Sakura sighs, putting her hairbrush down and swiveling around in her backless seat. Hinoka’s eyes are already fluttering closed--she grins sleepily but doesn’t respond, her chest rising and falling slightly as her breathing slowed. Sakura watches her for a few seconds before getting dressed, her irritation fading as fast as Hinoka falls deep into sleep. She takes one last look in the mirror, patting down her hair down firmly before heading out.

 

“Rin, pyou, tou…” Sakura repeats the kuji-in softly under her breath as she descends the wooden steps, the soles of her sneakers squeaking beneath her light steps. “Sha… kai…”

 

The residential floors of the Division headquarters are structured like an apartment building--many of the seers working there live in suites in the top half. Rising high above the thick forest, HQ sits at the base of the Ananke Hill, the expansively imposing southern border of Kairos. On the northern side, the Aether colors the horizon in jagged blues, the distant mountains scarcely traveled by anyone besides far-roaming yurei.

 

Sakura has always been enthralled by the Aether, by its mysterious aura, radiating with spirits and perhaps even sorcery. When she was little she would imagine herself trekking miles and miles out north, disappearing into the canyons and meeting a society of onmyoji, the legendary specialists of the ancient magic of onmyodo. She dreamt of learning their tradition, harnessing the pure power of eternal spirits and gods, summoning and banishing otherworldly souls to her pleasure. She knows now that the onmyoji died with their practices. Her abilities, granted to her by way of the world's remaining spiritual essence, transformed throughout thousands of years, are enough.

 

Reaching the last flight of wooden steps, Sakura approaches the metal door leading to the HQ facilities. Pressing her palm to the handle, she feels hot energy rush down her arm and disappear into the iron. A tiny _click_ and she pulls it open, leaning backwards and hauling with all her weight. The floors and walls turn from redwood to marble, and Sakura turns the corner, headed straight for the elevator to the main floor, when someone bumps straight into her, nearly knocking her off her feet.

 

“Sakura!”

 

It’s Takumi, which isn’t unexpected--he should be on his way to bed right about now--but something’s wrong. He looks flustered, breathing heavily as if he’s been running, his cheekbones shining with sweat.

 

“I was just about to come get you and Hinoka…” He struggles to get the words out, hunching forward and grasping his knees. “I was summoned by Ryouma earlier...”

 

Sakura blinks. “So… what did he need?”

 

Takumi shakes his head, still panting. “I need to get Hinoka… Just go find Ryouma, he’s in his room on the eighth floor.”

 

“The dispatch bureau? Why?”

 

But Takumi’s already running past, disappearing behind the metal door. Bewildered, Sakura stays standing for a few seconds before continuing on toward the elevator. Mind racing, she pressed the button for the the eighth floor, wondering what could be so urgent that it doesn’t occur to Takumi to simply summon her.

 

_Could it be?_

 

No, it couldn’t. Sakura shakes her head, and reminds herself that her brother is an airhead. Ryouma probably wants to speak with her about her studies. That’s definitely the more plausible assumption.

 

But she once again senses something’s wrong when she steps off the elevator, greeted by an atrium of curious expressions and glances. They must have seen Takumi frantically run out from Ryouma’s office, the unmistakable, ornate double doors at the head of the hall. Ignoring the inquisitive looks from the onlookers, Sakura briskly strides across the place and lets herself into her eldest brother--the director’s--headquarters.

 

Soft daylight, diluted by the gray sky, floods the room through the floor-to-ceiling glass wall on the far side. The tatami spread over the ground and the ashy remains of recently-lit incense on Ryouma’s desk reflects his preference for traditional decor. Ryouma himself stands by the glass, arms crossed and surveying the bustling city, casting a faint but menacing shadow behind him. Sakura slips her shoes off before silently approaching his back.

 

She stands by his side for a few quiet moments, following his gaze and watching the small figures trudging in sync through the morning traffic. Sakura treasures the times of calm silence she spends with her brother, but she spoke first, the alarm on Takumi’s face still fresh in her mind.

 

“Takumi sent me,” she says, peering up at Ryouma’s angular face. His features are set, more so than normal.  “He’s getting Hinoka now, but I forgot to tell him she fell asleep in my room so he might be a while…”

 

Trailing off, she waits for a response. Seconds pass, and Sakura’s self-assurance melts away--the grim expression on Ryouma’s face is enough to confirm that the nagging concern buried deep in her thoughts, no matter how much she denied it, has come true.

 

He doesn’t respond, and all Sakura can hear is the swelling pulse in her chest.

 

“Is it…” She pauses, uncertain whether she should continue. “Is it here?”

 

Ryouma’s prolonged silence is as good as a nod. Sakura stands stunned, her mind hesitating to grasp the situation fully before racing uncontrollably. It’s impossible to concentrate, so Sakura opts to keep her mouth shut.

 

Four years ago, when Ryouma succeeded his father as the head of the Division, a divine spirit visited him in the night, warning him that his future held misfortune and conflict. Unlike the yurei, this spirit materialized before Ryouma, presenting herself in human form. Sakura read endless stacks of books trying to identify the spirit’s unusual behavior and method of contact, and discovered that she was a benevolent oracle left behind by the onmyoji. The texts described this particular spirit as one of the three guardians of human life and sanctity. Based on the specifics of Ryouma’s account, Sakura could conclude that the prophesized conflict would be marked by the resurgence of aberrant yurei, and threaten the existence of Kairos in its entirety.

 

The event was hidden from the rest of the Division, and Sakura, along with Hinoka and Takumi, was one of the few who knew of this spirit’s appearance.

 

 _It’s here._ The words echo again and again in Sakura’s ears. She stares blankly into the streets, opening her mouth and closing it again, at a loss for words.

 

“...How do you know?” She finally breaks the silence, her hands balled into fists. “When did you sense it?”

 

Ryouma takes a deep breath, eyes still fixed on the same spot in the landscape.

 

“It happened last night.” His deep, mellow voice does little to comfort Sakura, who watches her brother intensely, trying to read his unchanging expression. “Something--a yurei--moving around the city with impossible speed and agility. It faced Takumi head on and escaped with little effort, as if it were disinterested in fighting back. I’ve been sensing a strange presence for some time now, and such has been confirmed.”

 

Feeling numb, Sakura opens her mouth to inquire further when the double doors swing open behind them. Hinoka and Takumi stumble in, both rattled.

 

“It’s here?” Hinoka asks, awake now and panicked. “It’s happened?”

 

Ryouma turns to face them, acknowledging the three of his siblings with a sinister ambience. In this moment, the comfort of family was superseded by the respect and honor of the Division’s three most talented seers.

  
There is nothing Ryouma can do about the dread weighing heavily in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter will kick off the action, i promise! the nohrian siblings are gonna get the love they deserve ~ c:


End file.
